Jay's Drabbles
by Jay of Lasgalen
Summary: A 'what if' pair of double drabbles with the twins. AU.
1. Long Live the King

**Long Live the King**

Elros Tar-Minyatur is dying - Númenor mourns.  Our first King, surely to be our greatest King, who wrought all around us.  Unheralded, for no message was sent, sails are sighted from Lindon.  Rumour abounds.  A mighty Elven lord, say some.  The herald of Gil-Galad, say others.  

No.

This is just a grieving brother, facing the final, bitter parting from his long-sundered twin.  A brother - surely questioning the choices made so long ago.  Words are unspoken; sorrow replaced by love and acceptance.  The eyes of one grow dim, closing under the tender caress of the other.  

The King is dead.  


	2. Homecoming

**Homecoming**

****

Dust.  Dust and ash.  The blackened, skeletal remains of trees, twisted beyond recognition.  The stench of burning still hung close, even after all this time.  The absence of birdsong accentuated the morbid silence of the dead forest.

Ahead, glints of light and movement momentarily lifted his heart, but it was a bitter illusion.  Silver trinkets hung from bare branches, stark reminders of those who had perished here.  

At the foot, hands ashy and sooty, a weary figure lovingly tended a tiny shoot of green, the merest hint of new growth, before looking up with a smile.  "Welcome home, my son."


	3. Thranduil's Heir

**Thranduil's Heir**

****

All is quiet now, peaceful and still.  It is late, and you are asleep, cradled in your mother's arms, tired out after the great adventure of your birth.  She too is exhausted, but never have I seen her so happy, so serene and content.  You have been long awaited, little one.

I look at you, so tiny, so perfect, so vulnerable; and feel a great sense of awe that I played a part in creating something so wonderful.  I know in this instant that I would give my very life to protect you both.  

Welcome to Lasgalen, my beloved son.


	4. Thranduil's Heir Version Two

**Thranduil's Heir (Version Two)**

****

All is quiet now, the song and revelry which greeted your birth stilled.  The soft voices of the trees, joyous in their welcome of this newest green leaf, are muted.  

You sleep in your mother's arms, both exhausted after the great adventure of birth.  She is serene and content now – you have been long awaited, little one.  Long have we listened to and delighted in the murmur of your song.  By Elbereth's starlight I look on you, so tiny, so perfect; feeling such awe that I played a part in creating something so wonderful.

Welcome to Lasgalen, my beloved son.


	5. The Dead Marshes

****

**The Dead Marshes**

****

Orcs and Easterlings fled from that great battle, north and east and west.  Some fled across Dagorlad; Gimli and I pursuing them, across the plains and into the Dead Marshes.  Yet when the last remnants of Sauron's armies were slain we lingered, watching lights flickering across the fens.  The candles of the dead, their faces glimmering in the water.  Elves and men, dead faces in the water, victims of the last great battle here.  

And _this_ is where my grandfather fell.  His grave is now swallowed by the creeping marshes.  I think I begin to understand your nightmares, my father.


	6. We Are Not The Same

We are not the same.  Mirror images, yes. Identical of face, yes.  Identical of heart, no.  

Others find it hard to comprehend us, I know.  They are blind, cannot see beyond their eyes, cannot see that below the surface lie different hearts, different souls, different minds.  And yet I find it difficult myself.  I know your thoughts, even when I do not share them; I feel your pain, even when it is not my own.  I love you, my brother, and could never bear to be parted from you, yet I chafe to be myself.

_We are not the same._


	7. I Remember

**I Remember**

I remember when the news came, the shock and horror on Father's face.  We made a vow then, Elrohir and I, to find you, no matter the cost.  

I remember the endless search, the long days and nights of pursuit, never stopping for rest or food.  I remember the soul-numbing dread clouding our thoughts, the dull fire that consumed us.  I remember.

I remember the moment we found you, the way you clung to Elrohir as we fought our way out of the pit.  And I remember the moment you left, your heart and soul broken beyond repair.  I remember.


	8. Dagorlad

**Dagorlad**

Even before the order to attack is given, we fall upon the hosts of Mordor.  Too soon.  Though valiant, we are too few to achieve our goal, and I watch in horror as one after another falls.  They are my friends, my comrades.  Then you too fall, and I kneel at your side, heedless of the battle still raging.

Scalding, bitter tears fill my eyes as you look on me for the last time, your hand brushing my face.  Then you too are gone, and around us warriors kneel in homage. 

"All hail King Thranduil," intones one, and others follow.


	9. Love

**Love**

You need not fear me, my friend. Her heart is not mine to hold – I love your Evenstar, it is true, as she loves me, but ours is the love of true friendship, of perils endured together, of laughter shared – the same love I bear for you.

Arwen loves _you_, Aragorn. I know she loved you from the moment you first met, walking among the birches of Imladris at dusk. She loves you with all the passion of her spirit. She loves you enough to forsake her immortal life.

And I love you both. I wish you well, my friends.

(**Author's Notes:** Blame HASA for this one. The Birthday Drabbles thread had three requests for June - Legolas, Legolas/Aragorn friendship, no slash. I combined all three, and this is the result. The speaker is Legolas.)


	10. The Longing

**The Longing**

I long for my home.  I want to see the beeches again; to walk beneath their shade.  I want to hear the wind among the branches; to see the stars between their leaves.  I want to smell the scents of a misty autumn morning and feel the soft dew beneath my feet.

Here in this city of stone I feel confined.  The walls reflect the heat and constant clamour of humanity.  But outside the walls the white gulls cry, and the Anduin leads to the Sea. 

I long for the tranquillity of the forest.  _Maybe then I will find peace._


	11. Battle Beneath The Trees

**Battle**** Beneath The Trees**

This was the most beautiful part of the forest.  Two majestic oaks stood here, strong and tall, their branches forever entwined as they reached towards the sky.   I came here to remember you, and to weep, and to hear your voice among the leaves.

And then, _they_ came.  They came to burn, to kill, to destroy.  I am told we had the victory, but at a price.  The price of lives, of beauty, of memories.

Now the oaks are blackened skeletons, twisted in agony.  No longer do their branches stretch tall. 

There is no beauty here.  Your voice is silenced.


	12. Elvellon

**_'Elvellon'_**

**__**

"Father?  This is Gimli."

In the silence that follows, I ponder our friendship.  A friendship that transcends the ancient enmities between our peoples, a friendship that perplexes many.

Perhaps the first seeds were sown long ago, at Erebor.  I learned then that your folk were not the cowardly _Naugrim_ of legend, but stout and valiant warriors. On the Quest I came to know more of you; and with knowledge came acceptance.  With acceptance came friendship, growing to the sort of friendship I have been blessed with before, but never thought to find again.

He smiles, and bows.  "Welcome, Gimli _Elvellon_."


	13. Battle of Five Armies

**The ****Battle**** of Five Armies**

****

Black clouds gather above.  With a clap of thunder, wild wind roars down from the hills.  Vast armies of orcs and wolves fall upon elves, and men, and dwarves – fighting together now, all differences forgotten.  Siege, greed, retribution; ancient disputes become irrelevant against the common foe.

Cold flame flickers from sword and spear and arrow, burning with immortal hate.  But skill, strength and courage are not enough, cannot overcome sheer numbers.  Elves, dwarves, men; all fall beneath the crushing multitude, until hope is utterly vanquished.  Defeat is certain, until a glad cry is raised.

The eagles! The eagles are coming!


	14. Oropher

**Oropher**

****

Forgive me, my son. 

My pride and independence led us to this.  I did not want to wait for debate, for endless discussion – it seemed that this was a time for action.  I saw our chance to strike at the heart of the enemy, and took it, seizing it with both hands, while our allies pondered strategy and tactics.

This was not meant to happen.  We should have been returning to the Greenwood victorious; returning together.  Instead our forces were cut down, decimated, and it is _you_ who will lead our warriors home.  Forgive me, my son.  I was wrong.


	15. Destiny

**Destiny**

Like you, I wrestle with my thoughts, never speaking of our choice, delaying and delaying and delaying until we can delay no more.  I have long feared this moment, when I – when we – must face our heritage; choose our  destiny. 

Do we take the fate of men or elves?  Mortality or immortality?  A brief' glorious spark followed by swift death, or a slow gradual flowering and eventual decline?  I love this world; would gladly take eternity to explore it; but that same eternity without you, my brother, would be unbearable.  

I know I could not endure our father's unending grief.

**Author's Note:**  I do not know the twins' choice, but I tend to think that they chose immortality.  Whatever the decision,  I think they chose the same fate – I cannot imagine them being sundered as Elrond and Elros were.


	16. Leaving

**Leaving**

****

"We go?"

"We go,"  Elladan agrees.  "There is nothing to hold us here now." 

Sadly, it is true.  Arwen has gone now, and Estel before her, and our last link to Middle Earth is broken.  Eldarion has grown to a fine man, and makes a worthy king.  Father would be so proud of him.

Turning, I take one last lingering look at Imladris, remembering.  Then, together, we ride for the last time along the twisting trail and out of the valley.  We ride for the Havens, and for a long awaited reunion.

"Do you think Mother knows we are coming?"


	17. Arrival

**Arrival**

Before dawn, she is at the harbour, waiting impatiently.  This is the day she has hoped for; longed for; waited for; for so very many years.  To her great joy, one such reunion has already happened.  To her great sorrow, there is one reunion that will never now take place.

As the light grows, the ship is sighted; sails shimmering in the early sunlight.  As it draws near, she sees them; standing shoulder-to-shoulder by the rail, tall and beautiful. As the ship docks, they come; bounding down the gang plank to throw themselves into her tearful, joyous embrace. 

Her sons.


	18. Thranduil's Begetting Day

**Thranduil's Begetting Day**

Daisies. His father's favourite flowers. Carefully, he searched the grass, picking only the long, thicker stems he could weave into long chains. Daisies were just right. The stems for the emeralds his father most loved, petals for his favourite white gems, the brilliant centre, just like his father's golden hair.

He threaded the stems together, interlacing the flowers and weaving the resultant chain into a thick rope, finally joining the ends together. Satisfied, he ran to his parents, throwing himself into his father's arms and placing the daisy crown on his head.

"This is for you, Ada! Happy Begetting day!"

**Author's Notes:** This is a birthday drabble for Daw the Minstrel, one of my favourite writers. She writes a wonderful little Legolas and Thranduil.

****


	19. Aftermath

**Aftermath**

They tell me that we had the victory, but I cannot see it from here. All I can see is the destruction of the forest. Majestic, venerable oaks are burned and blackened. They tell me that Sauron is overthrown, that the shadow is no more – but at the cost of so many lives, so savagely snuffed out. Will _they_ see this victory?

They tell me that a messenger has come, bearing a letter of utmost urgency. My heart quails as I open it.

_'My beloved father …' _

I smile, and start to live again, for I know you are safe.


	20. Choices

**Choices**

When we are summoned to our father's study on that last day, I know what he will ask. "I ride tomorrow for Mithlond. Have you yet made your choice, my sons? Do you sail with me, or stay?"

I do not need to look at Elrohir before I answer for us both. "We will stay." I see such a depth of sadness and grief in his eyes, but no surprise. He feared that this would come one day.

"We will stay for now," Elrohir amends. "We will stay for Aragorn and Arwen. Until – until the end. And then, if the Valar allow it, we will join you."

Father smiles faintly. "Do you know if such a delay will be permitted?"

I hesitate for the first time. "No. Not yet. It may be that we delay too long, and our choice will be taken from us. But we are both agreed on this."

"Surely you did not expect us to be parted?" Elrohir adds.

"No. Never that." He steps towards us and we embrace, all three. "I will wait for you, my sons. But this may yet be farewell. Have you thought of that?"

Helplessly, I nod. "I know. Namárië, Father."


	21. Arwen's Birth Day

**Arwen's Birth Day**

"Will you pass me the wine please El? Thank you."

Elladan passed the bottle of wine to his brother, who refilled both their glasses. Taking a sip, he lay back against the grass, gazing upwards at the night. Another burst of fireworks arched across the sky, fountains of gold and silver fire drifting silently downward.

Beside him, Elrohir raised his glass. "To our beautiful new sister," he said proudly. "I wonder if they did this when we were born?"

Elladan sat up, touching his glass against his twin's. "One hundred and eleven years ago," he mused. He took a bite of the Birth Day cake, baked in celebration. "To Arwen," he repeated.

**Author's Notes**: Part of the HASA birthday challenge, to write a drabble in 111 words in recognition of Frodo and Bilbo's birthdays. It had to include three of the following: a bottle of wine, a birthday cake, fireworks, pipeweed and the number 111. Four out of five isn't bad.

When I remembered that a certain pair of elven twins were 111 when their sister was born, the rest was easy!


	22. A Brother's Prayer

**A Brother's Prayer**

The room is in near darkness now, lit only by a faint firelight. The flames are dying – _no! I will not use that word! _– yet you remain pale and unmoving, your only colour a faint flush of fever.

It seems I have been at your side for an eternity, holding you, calling you. I talk incessantly, until I weary of my own voice, offering you an anchor, something to cling to when you finally cease your desperate wanderings in nightmare. I try to follow you, to show you the path of return, but you are lost to me, lost in darkness. I cannot find you.

Please, my brother, hear my voice. Come back to me, to all of us, wake from your dreams of darkness and return to the light. Where are you? What evil thoughts haunt your dreams? Why do you not wake?

My fear grows that you are lost to us, and I fear for the future. I do not think I could continue alone, without you at my side, for we have been together all our lives – yet I know our parents could not endure a double loss.

_I love you, El. Please do not leave me._

**Author's Notes:** I have deliberately not specified which twin is speaking here. What do you think? What has happened? Tell me your ideas!


	23. The Gift Horse

**The Gift Horse**

Searching for his brother, Elladan pushed the door open. Elrohir's room was empty, his bed unslept in. That was odd. Where was he, today of all days? With Elrohir, the stables were always a good place to start. Elladan dressed swiftly, left the house, and crossed the dewy grass to the warm, hay-scented building.

He could hear Elrohir's voice, warm and affectionate. Inside, a mare, tired and content, watched with pride as a wobbly-legged foal suckled peacefully. Elrohir, weary and grimy, looked up and smiled, patting the foal paternally.

"Happy Conception Day, Elladan! What are you going to call him?"

**Author's Notes:** This one is for JastaElf's birthday – a little late, I'm afraid. Happy Birthday, Jasta!


	24. The Houseless Ones

**The Houseless Ones**

"The legends say that on this day, the dead walk."

"Ha! I thought you did not fear the dead, Master Elf?"

Legolas shrugged. "The ghosts of men hold no terror for me. But my own people – they are the houseless ones, who refused the summons of Mandos. In denying death, they became trapped between Arda and the Halls. I have _seen_ them, Gimli – wisps of mist; flickering flames rising out of the cold earth. They are restless. We should hurry."

Around them, darkness spread; misty flames flickering slowly above unseen candles as pale lights and shadows grew.

The dead walked.


	25. My Brother, My World SLASH

**My Brother, My World**

Midnight-dark hair flows like silk through my fingers. His skin burns against mine, and his kiss, tender in the aftermath of passion, is sweet. I feel his soft breath, quieting now, warm against my neck as his arms encircle me.

"Love you," he murmurs.

I turn to look into his storm-grey eyes, eyes that I have seen darken with desire, as slowly he falls into sleep, head resting on my shoulder.

I too am exhausted by our loving, but here, _now_, I want nothing but to lie in his gentle embrace.

I love you, my brother. You are my world.

**Author's Note:** Although this is Elladan and Elrohir, it is **NOT** connected to any of my other stories about the twins. There is no twincest in their relationship elsewhere.


	26. Precious

**Precious**

It was my birthday that day, so we took a boat down the river. Fish darted, silver and gold, in the sparkling water. Then, I saw it. A different gold; glinting, shining on the river-bed.

_He_ saw it as well. He wanted my pretty. A ring it was, golden; shining and glittering in the sun. A present, for me. Beautiful – so very beautiful.

"Give us that, my love. It's my birthday."

Instead, he snatched the ring back – tried to keep it! So, I took it. Killed him – I had to. The ring was _mine_ – my birthday present. Mine.

_My preciousss. _

**_Author's Notes:_** Written for the 'Greed' challenge at Tolkien Weekly.

__


	27. Why?

**Why?**

Anger consumes me when I receive your letter, and I have only one question: _Why_?

Why do you take this deadly path? Do you think to find glory there? There is no heroic sacrifice in certain death.

Why do you turn your back on duty? You are needed here, to lead our troops into battle at my side, to lead them if I fall. For battle, assuredly, will come.

Why did Elrond suggest _you _for this foolhardy mission? Are his own sons too dear to him? Why must he risk you, my only, my beloved son, my life?

Why you?


	28. Laketown Romeo

**Laketown Romeo**

Marten eyed the elf-maid drunkenly. She was tall and slender, the prettiest elf-maid he'd ever seen – but that weren't many, admittedly. And her hair – long, blonde, silky, it shone like – like _sunlight_, he thought, in a sudden poetic burst.

Seizing his chance, Marten weaved over to the elf-maid, laying his hand on her arm. " 'Ello, gorgeous," he slurred winningly.

He found his hand held in a vice-like grip. "Remove your hand, ere I remove it for you!" snapped a hard voice. Startled, Marten looked up – into a beautiful, cold, undeniably _male_ face.

"Your pardon, sir – 'twas an honest mistake!"

**Author's Notes:** This was written for the Tolkien Weekly 'Mistakes' Challenge.


	29. Temptation

**Temptation**

I can hear the Ring's seductive whisper on the edge of my thoughts. I know its evil lure; have seen it at work in the company. To banish its malice, I think of my home; the trees green and growing. Yet blight and shadow mar the woodland now – my father fights valiantly; using his power and strength to defeat this darkness, but 'tis not enough.

Why is it that he is the only Elven ruler without a ring of power? It would be so easy: together we could sweep all evil from this world. _I have only to take it._


	30. Hannon Le

**Hannon Le**

I have rarely known such friendship as yours, my friend. We owe our lives to each other, many times over, and together have faced dangers we could not survive alone. Your friendship and companionship mean much to me, and I feel the richer for it. You fill me with laughter with your humour, your view on life, your tales, your warmth.

For you I would face death; _have_ faced death – and I know that you would do the same for me. Without you, my life would be duller, poorer, less full – and no doubt far safer.

_Hannon le, mellon nîn._

**Author's Note:** A friendship drabble with Legolas and Aragorn, written for Cassia and Sio at the Mellon Chronicles, to say 'thank you' for a Christmas gift they sent.


	31. An Uneventful Journey

**An Uneventful Journey**

Legolas leaned against a convenient rock, gazing upwards at the stars. The sky was clear, the air crisp with the chill of winter. "I cannot believe it," he said in wonder. "We have been journeying for a month, are nearly home again – and nothing has gone wrong. No wargs. No spiders attacking us."

"No trolls," added Elladan slyly, as he leaned forward to add another fallen branch to their fire.

"No raging rivers," Elrohir agreed.

"I have enjoyed the peace and quiet," Legolas continued. "And yet …"

Two identical voices spoke in unison. "It has been just a little _boring_!"

**Author's Notes:** This one was for LKK's birthday.


	32. MidWinter Magic

**Mid-Winter Magic**

Mid-winter was the best time of year, full of wonder and excitement. The trees surrounding Lasgalen were leafless, frosted with white. At nightfall on mid-winter's eve they were bare, still beautiful in their stark simplicity; but bare. By dawn on mid-winter's day the branches were festooned with ribbons, brightly wrapped sweetmeats and trinkets. There were gifts for all.

None knew who put them there. Elflings tried hard to stay awake, determined that _this_ year they would watch, yet, inevitably, they slept. When they awoke, the trees were dressed in their bright finery.

It was part of the magic of mid-winter.


	33. The Wood Of Greenleaves

**The Wood Of Greenleaves**

The devastated forest still smouldered as Thranduil saw Celeborn approaching, as weary as he was himself, but wearing a fierce smile. "I bring news. Galadriel has seen them – Legolas is safe," he said in greeting.

Thranduil's weariness and sorrow vanished. "Thank the Valar," he whispered. "Thank you for your aid, cousin – and your lady. The shadow of evil that has blighted my forest for so long is gone."

"This is Mirkwood no longer," Celeborn observed. "You should rename it."

"_Eryn Lasgalen._ One day, the leaves _will_ be green again."

_Eryn Lasgalen._ A new name. A new year. A new hope.

o-o-o

**From Appendix B:** 'On the day of the New Year of the Elves, Celeborn and Thranduil met in the midst of the forest, and they renamed Mirkwood _Eryn Lasgalen_.'

(The Elves' New Year was 6th April, I know.)

Happy New Year to you all!


	34. Great Minds Think Alike

**Great Minds Think Alike**

Elrohir rolled over and peered at the other bed. Elladan was still asleep. He groped under his pillow, and found the jewel-hilted dagger that was to be Elladan's begetting day gift. It was the only safe hiding place, so obvious that his twin would never think to look there. He slid out of bed and crossed to Elladan's, tugging the covers off abruptly.

Elladan sat up with a startled yell. He sighed, then fished beneath his pillow and held out a felt-covered object. "Happy begetting day, Elrohir!"

Carefully, Elrohir unwrapped it, smiling at the jewel-hilted dagger revealed. "Happy thirtieth, Elladan."

o-o-o

Happy Birthday to Isil Elensar for 9th January! She requested '30-year-old elveses'.


	35. Time To Depart

**Time To Depart**

Aragorn, last in a long line of fosterlings, was gone. Arwen, always their little sister, had passed. With the deaths of their sister, and one they had loved like a brother, there was nothing to bind them to Middle Earth any longer; nothing to stay for. Even Imladris was fading and dying. The ravages of time could no longer be denied.

Pausing only long enough to pack essentials for the journey, and mementoes they could not bear to leave behind, they consigned fair Imladris to the care of those who remained. They rode for the havens, arriving at dusk, the long firth shining ahead of them, glimmering softly in the moonlight.

Cirdan greeted them. "Welcome to Mithlond, my lords. You have been expected. We sail at dawn." Nodding to the grey-bearded shipwright, they boarded the ship, feeling deep sorrow and loss at the memory of all those who would never now join them. Yet amid the sadness there was hope – expectation of joyous reunion with those long missed who had gone before, anticipation of a new land to explore – and they would always be together.

As dawn broke, the ship slipped away down the long grey firth to the sea.


	36. Scorched Earth

**Scorched Earth**

This part of the forest was burnt to the ground, and the stench of burning lingers in the air. The soil is barren, bare; rising in a cloud of black dust as I work.

I feel the destruction of the trees in my heart, their suffering as a physical pain. Yet still I work; digging, planting, watering, tending; so that the forest may grow again.

I turn to the last scorched patch of earth, and stop in awe. A shoot of green is growing – unplanted, unwatered, untended, but growing nonetheless.

It is a sign. Though all seems lost, life remains.

**Notes**: This is from Thranduil's POV, and was written for the 'Earth' challenge at Tolkien Weekly.


	37. First Words

**First Words**

Celebrían turned the wriggling, squirming elfling in her arms to face her. "Nana," she said clearly. "Say 'Nana'." Her son wriggled again with an incoherent wail, struggling to be free. She held him firmly, determined that the twins' first recognisable word would be 'Nana', not 'Ada'.

Across the room, Elrond was having equally little success. "Ada. Can you say 'Ada'? Please, little one. 'Ada'!"

Parted for too long, both twins started to wail. Celebrían moved closer to Elrond, with a sigh of despair. "Will they ever stop this incomprehensible babble and talk properly?"

"Of course they will. They just have to be taught properly!" Glorfindel appeared beside her. "Glor-fin-del," he said clearly. "Glor-fin-del."

Celebrían gave a snort of derision. "If they still cannot manage 'Nana', I doubt they will be able to cope with 'Glorfindel'!" She leaned against Elrond's shoulder wearily. "They should be able to say something by now!"

Elladan stretched out one hand, and tugged at his brother's hair. "El!" he said gleefully – and clearly. "El!"

Elrohir turned in his father's arms, and beamed. "El!" he replied.

Their father gazed at them, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "El?" he repeated in horror. "My sons' first word is 'El'?"


	38. Important Business

**Important Business**

The cat opened one eye indignantly as her sleep, in a patch of bright sunlight on the sun-warmed flagstones, was disturbed. She heard the heavy clump of booted feet, very different to the familiar soft steps of the elves. There were deep, gruff voices, harsh to her ears after the light, musical voices she was used to.

There was peace for a while as the one she thought of as _her_ elf spoke, and she dozed again, ignoring the discussion that followed. All was well if _he_ was here. Suddenly she awoke with a start and hissed, her fur standing on end in fear. A harsh, menacing voice was speaking in some foul tongue. The sunlight faded, and a sense of evil hung in the air. Then her elf spoke again, gently reprimanding, and she felt the dark shadows lift. There was more talk, then a heavy, ringing silence. Finally another voice spoke, soft and resigned, rather sad.

Her elf spoke again in reply, and then – finally! – the intruders were gone, and silence descended once more. The pointless, irritating discussions were over. Contented, the cat curled into another patch of sun, and got back to the important business of sleeping.


	39. Searching

**Searching**

Desperate now, Thranduil searched further downstream. How could such a small elfling wander so far, in such a short time? He had turned his back for only a second, but his son had vanished.

His mind was filled with terrifying images and dread. There were so many dangers to befall a child; spiders, wolves – and the swift, cold river.

Then, the call he longed for and dreaded. "My Lord! Over here!"

Flaming torchlight revealed a muddy, tear-streaked elfling; peacefully asleep among the protective roots of a mighty oak. Thranduil bent; scooped him up with a kiss. "Legolas. Come home now."


	40. The Politics Of Gardening

**The Politics Of Gardening**

Elrond sat cross-legged beneath a tree in the garden of Bag End, watching Sam hard at work.

"You look hot, Sam," Elrond commented. "I confess, when it comes to gardening, I prefer to watch others labour."

Sam joined him in the shade, surveying the garden proudly. "My old Da were a terror on weeds and such – but I prefer a more liberal approach. Even weeds have their place, I reckon."

The door opened, and Sam's little niece flew across the garden. "A 'tory, Uncle! A 'tory!" she lisped.

Sam settled her on his lap. "Aye," he agreed comfortably. "A story."

**Author's Notes:** A birthday drabble for paranoidangel (Nic), who is a fellow Review Admin at HASA. She requested Elrond and Sam, so I've pretended that Elrond visited the Hobbits at some point.

Her birthday's on May 5th, a significant date in the UK as it is the General Election. I've played with that idea a little!


	41. To See The Sea

**To See The Sea**

He passed through the Tower Hills. There before him, he saw it at last – exactly as imagined, as tales of childhood fantasy told. The Sea. A wide expanse of water, glistening in the sunlight, vanishing into the West beyond his sight.

At the Havens, he trotted onto the docks, watching in awe as sailors coiled ropes, unfurled sails, prepared to set sail. One looked up and hailed him. "You there! You looking for a job? We need someone small, nimble; to climb into the rigging. Think you can do it?"

Eager, he nodded. "Aye, sir!"

"Your name?"

"Isengar. Isengar Took."

**Author Notes: **For the 'Life Aquatic' challenge on Tolkien Weekly. Isengar Took (Pippin's great-uncle) is said to have 'gone to sea' in his youth.


	42. Dark Elf

**Dark Elf**

Suddenly the great bow of Lórien sang. High above, a dark shape veered towards them with a croaking cry of triumph and swooped downwards.

The elf turned to face his companions with a cold, feral grin. The ring on its slender chain dangled from his long fingers. "My Lord knows of our presence. He will be here shortly." He regarded their shock contemptuously. "Surely you did not think Gollum _escaped_ from Mirkwood? I released him." He turned and called into the night. "Come here, my pet."

Gollum crept from the shadows and rubbed lovingly against Legolas. "Yess, master," he crooned.

**Author's Notes:** Written for AU challenges on Tolkien Weekly and HASA.


	43. Bloodlust

**Bloodlust**

I plead with my sons to cease their endless quest for revenge – yet while orcs still roam these lands, I know they cannot rest.

I understand their anger, but can they not understand my fear? One day, they will not return. One day, one will return alone, bearing his brother's body – and I will still lose them both.

Yet I cling to hope. Hope that one day, the cold-eyed, vengeful warriors will go, and my sons will return. I have to believe that that day will come.

I watch, heavy-hearted, as they ride out again – vicious orc-slayers consumed by bloodlust.


	44. Autumn Hunt

**Autumn Hunt**

Thranduil crept through the forest. Pausing by a thicket of bushes, he peered into the clustering branches to the hollows beyond. There was nothing there.

He gazed upwards, past the yellowing leaves into the depths of the trees above him, looking for a green and brown shadow – which was not there. He paused, thinking. Where to look next? The stables lay ahead, with lofts, corners, shadows, and stacked bales of hay.

Passing a drift of autumn leaves, he jumped as the pile exploded upwards, and a laughing, shouting elfling emerged.

"You found me, Ada! Now it's your turn to hide!"

**Author Notes**: For Jasta's birthday.


	45. Old Man Willow

**Old Man Willow**

Slowly, Legolas approached the willow. Enchantment hung thickly in the air, but he was no stranger to enchantment and stepped between the long, trailing branches that hung into the water. They seemed to twine around his feet and legs, and he pulled them free carefully before placing his hands against the tree gently. Feeling a shiver run through it, he leaned closer, resting his head against the trunk; ignoring the twisting fronds that now attempted to wind around his neck.

He could feel the darkness at the heart of the ancient willow, a wellspring of loneliness and long abandonment. His heart wept for the tree's sorrow, and softly he began to sing. A shudder ran through the tree as his song continued, and he felt the coils wrapped around his throat slowly loosen and fall away.

Still he sang.

Finally he felt the tree stirring and waking beneath his touch, and a soft, whispering voice drifted through his mind.

" … _elf_? …"

"_Aye, an elf,"_ he thought back. _"You are no longer alone, my friend."_

The trailing branches writhed again, lifting to brush gently against his face. "_Elf." _ With a sigh, the willow shivered in contentment, and slept again.


	46. Battle Beneath The Trees II

**Battle Beneath The Trees**

Beneath the eaves of the forest, fierce battle raged. The trees rang with cries as each flying missile found its mark.

Rallying his troops for one final attack, Thranduil gazed at the determined faces around him. "We will not yield," he vowed.

There was a cry at his side, and Thranduil saw a dark wetness spreading across the young elf's cloak. The enemy was getting closer, and more daring. Surveying his dwindling supply of weapons, Thranduil nodded determinedly. He had just two options.

"We fight."

He surged forward, leading the attack on the other elflings with his last remaining snowballs.

**Author's Notes**: Written for the Tolkien Weekly 'Snow' challenge.


	47. A Final Farewell

**A Final Farewell**

Although we ride together, the journey passes in near silence, for what words can express my sorrow and guilt in leaving you? I know that this will be the last journey we take together, and pray all the while that you will change your mind at the last – or that I will – but in my heart I know it will not be. You are as set on this course as I am.

You find such hope and strength in the rise of men and their realms – you always were more optimistic than I. You do not despair as the flame of each brief lifespan flickers and dies, but see instead the glorious spark of passion to achieve and create so much in the short time they have.

At the quay we make our final farewell. The words come at last, but are unnecessary. Our last embrace, our tears, say more than any words ever could to express the emptiness I feel. I stand at the stern of the ship, watching, as your figure dwindles into the distance, and know that now – and for evermore – I am alone.

Goodbye, my brother. I will miss you to the end of my days.

Although we ride together, the journey passes in near silence. I am reminded of so many other journeys together – escapades and adventures when we were children, routine patrols when we were oh-so-serious young warriors, the deadly chases and vengeful searches of later years.

And this – this will be the last journey we take together. You have lost all joy in Arda, and can see only the fading of the elves and the loss of all we have ever loved. Yet you do not despair, and are full of hope and longing for what will come. You always were more optimistic than I. You ride with your eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the wondrous new land awaiting you, and the reunions that will follow this last, bitter parting.

At the quay we make our final farewell, the saddest I have ever known. Already I can feel the emptiness in my heart as we embrace for the last time and our tears flow and mingle. Standing on the dock, I watch until your ship fades into the faint sea mist, and I know that you are truly gone.

Goodbye, little brother. I will miss you to the end of my days.

Author Notes: The first speaker is Elrohir, then Elladan. And no, I don't really believe that this happened - I think the twins made the same choice, and that they both sailed.


End file.
